


when their hands were small

by tigriswolf



Series: poetry [55]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Aftermath, Autobiography, Childhood Memories, Family, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Keepsakes, Natural Disasters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-11 23:19:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7911457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigriswolf/pseuds/tigriswolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You save the things they make when their hands are small.</p>
            </blockquote>





	when their hands were small

**Author's Note:**

> Title: when their hands were small  
> Written: August 30, 2016

This is how memory works: 

You save the things they make when their hands are small,  
their first shaky handwriting, their handprints,  
fill in the blank, connect the dots, color in the lines (or not).  
You put it all in a filebox and you save it as they grow and grow,  
until they’re taller than you,  
until they look like men even though they’re still boys.  
You save it as they grow past you,  
as they take their first steps out in the world without you.  
You save the things their hands made when they were little  
and still looked up to you.  
You save it  
and you save it  
and you save it.  
Maybe you pull it out now and again  
and you look at what they once were,  
so young, so small.  
You save it in a filebox.

And then the water comes.  
It leaks in, it drowns the things they made.  
You still have them and a filebox full of dirty river water. 

I went through it for you.  
I saved what I could.  
So much of it was ruined.  
I couldn’t even tell what it had been.  
It bled and it tore, and I peeled it apart,  
and I looked at the things their hands made when they were young.  
And I’m sorry. 

You saved it.  
They’re so big now.  
They don’t even remember making it.  
But you remember when they brought it home  
and you saved it and you put it in a filebox,  
and the water rushed in.  
I’m sorry. 

But here’s what I could salvage.  
And even though so much of it is gone,  
you still have them, and you have the memories  
of the things they made when their hands were small.


End file.
